On, through many a thorny maze,
Up slippery rocks, and through tangled ways,
Lieth my cloud-mantled path, afar
From that buried vale where my treasures are.
But there bursts a light through the heavy gloom,
From the sun-bright towers of my distant home;
And fainter the wail of the sad "no more"
Is heard as slowly I near that shore;
And sweet home-voices come soft and low,
Half drowning that requiem's dirge-like flow.
I know it is Sorrow's baptism stern
That hath given me thus for my home to yearn,--
That has quickened my ear to the tender call
That down from the jasper heights doth fall,--
And lifted my soul from the songs of Earth
To music of higher and holier birth,
Turning the tide of a yearning love
To the beautiful things that are found above;--
And I bless my Father, through blinding tears,
For the chastening love of departed years,--
For hiding my idols so low--_so low_--
Over the mountains, under the snow.
LONGINGS
Sleep, gentle, mysterious healer,
Come down with thy balm-cup to me!
Come down, O thou mystic revealer
Of glories the day may not see!
For dark is the cloud that is o'er me,
And heavy the shadows that fall,
And lone is the pathway before me,
And far-off the voice that doth call--
Faintly, yet tenderly ever,
From over the dark river, call.
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